


As Good a Place to Fall as Any

by SaunterVaguelyDownward (ClueingForLooks_221B)



Series: I'm Not Here Looking for Absolution [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hastur Being an Asshole (Good Omens), Hell Is Awful, Hurt/Comfort, Light Torture, Like holy crap they love each other, M/M, Minor Character Death, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Romance, So much comfort, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, no actual rape though, seriously all the cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:07:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27089884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClueingForLooks_221B/pseuds/SaunterVaguelyDownward
Summary: “Great then, thanks,” Crowley replied. “Fine job done by me. My angel and I will be off now.”He began to walk toward Aziraphale, his angel’s head finally snapping up and looking at him with surprise.“Oh no, no. You’re not leaving yet.” Hastur stepped between the angel and his demon, a dangerous look on his face. “We haven’t had the ceremony yet.”“Er… right. What ceremony, exactly?”Hastur smiled, but there was nothing remotely kind about it.~In which hell finds out that Crowley and Aziraphale spent the night together, and they decide they deserve a turn with the angel, too.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: I'm Not Here Looking for Absolution [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977214
Comments: 10
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Please make sure you read the tags. While there is not the actual act of rape, the threat of it is heavy and real in this fic.
> 
> This is the sequel to my other stories, The Undone and The Divine and Bedroom Hymns. While I do suggest you read those first, it’s not entirely necessary. This does pick up almost immediately after, more like the morning after heh heh, but just know that these two idiots finally admitted their feelings to each other in an adorable way and then got it on. 
> 
> This is obviously much darker subject matter than the fluffy love-fest that are the previous fics. Also, I’ve taken some minor liberties in this story to achieve the drama that I desire so just go with that, please :)

Aziraphale’s head was throbbing.

His vision was blurry and his ears were ringing. He could hear muffled voices around him but couldn’t yet make out what they were saying. The only sense he could count on with any certainty was his sense of smell.

Which happened to be the one thing he wished was failing him at the moment because, wherever he was, smelled absolutely _putrid_.

As his thoughts became a bit less fuzzy he realized that he had indeed smelled this place before, and it wasn’t that long ago.

Hell. He was in hell.

How was this happening? The angel attempted to gather his wits. He shook his head and blinked rapidly. He was trying so hard to recall the last thing he remembered, but it was all still so unclear. He realized that his knees were aching, and that his shoulder blades were tight. His vision began to focus a bit and he could see he was kneeling on the filthy floor. When he tried to brace himself with his hands he discovered they were shackled behind his back. As his full consciousness returned he noticed how much he truly hurt everywhere. How long had he been here? Had someone beaten him, or was this just how an angel’s body reacted to being in hell? Oh, sure, he’d been here before, but he was in Crowley’s body. Perhaps he didn’t notice the effect hell had on him because he was technically a demon at the time?

Crowley.

Oh, it was all coming back now. He had spent last night with his demon, the most magnificent night of his life. He had finally told Crowley how much he cared for him, how much he loved him, and the reciprocation was more then the angel ever could have dreamed. They had finally come together, found their way to each other in every way that mattered. So content and loved had Aziraphale felt lying in Crowley’s arms that he actually fell asleep. And _this_ is what he had to wake up to?

What a sharp, cruel contrast, whatever this was, to the absolute bliss of his night with Crowley.

“Hastur! He’s waking up!”

Aziraphale stiffened at the voice that came out of nowhere, but also sounded impossibly close. He heard footsteps approaching from behind and quickly snapped his fingers. The miraculous removal of his shackles had failed, but he had to give it a shot.

The approaching figure stopped right behind him before roughly grabbing his hair and forcing his head up.

“You’ve rejoined us just in time,” the demon Hastur began, his voice as unpleasant as his stench. “Your boyfriend is almost here.”

Aziraphale did his best to avoid flinching at the rough handling and the way the demon said the term ‘boyfriend’. Like it was the most vile thing he could think to call Crowley. Like he had no idea that the angel would gladly claim him as such.

********

Crowley anxiously stood in the elevator that would take him further down into hell. Down into the judgement room. He was tapping his foot impatiently, hands bunching at his sides because he was pretty certain the elevator was slowing down just to _spite_ him.

He couldn't believe they dragged Aziraphale down here. He needed to get to his angel.

He was feeling _murderous_.

Everything he had ever wanted for the last six thousand years had been realized last night. Everything he ever fought for, pined for and longed for. It was all for the same being, of course. The one creature for which he would do anything. They had admitted their feelings to one another, finally, thinking they had been safe to do so after avoiding the end of times. The mere thought of the night they’d spent together was enough to make a delicious warmth spread throughout the demon’s chest. And then, his angel, his angel who never sleeps, had felt safe enough with him that he did just that. Crowley watched it happen. He originally planned on watching Aziraphale sleep for hours. But it wasn’t long before his own warmth and contentment and pure, unbridled happiness had caught up with him that he, too, slept.

When he awoke and his angel was not with him, he did his best not to panic. It only took about five more seconds, and realizing that Aziraphale’s bedroom smelled like hellfire and a unique pungent fecal smell that could only belong to Hastur, that Crowley began to panic.

He snapped his clothes on and then snapped himself to the escalator that would bring him to hell. When he stormed into the main reception, he demanded they tell him where the angel was taken and he was directed down here. Crowley truly didn’t know what to expect, and that frightened him.

Thinking back on last night, he was still shocked by how easily Aziraphale had told him he loved him. He would hold onto that moment for the rest of his life, which hopefully, would not be ending today.

The elevator doors finally opened and Crowley was met by a hallway full of his peers. The demons began applauding and whooping as he stepped out and onto the floor. He sauntered forward, making sure he put every ounce of his concentration into not looking as worried as he felt. His gut clenched with fear at what might meet him when he rounded the corner.

If they even laid a _finger_ on his angel...

“Crowleyyyyy you bagged an angel!” cheered the first demon that he passed.

“I didn't think you had it in you!” another chimed in.

“Oooooh he looks like a tasty one, too.”

Crowley did his best to keep his face neutral as he continued to walk down the hall.

“How did you fuck him? From behind? Get him on all fours like a dog?”

“Did you take him by force? Or did that slut beg for it?”

Crowley smiled in response at that demon’s comment. It was easy to do, as he was imagining breaking his neck.

As he rounded the corner, the sight that greeted him made his blood boil. His angel, chained and kneeling, being manhandled by Hastur, who’s filthy hand was still pulling at his blonde hair. There was another demon next to him, who decided to lean in very close to Aziraphale and breathed in deeply through his nose.

“Mmmm… he smells good. Definitely like he got fucked.”

Crowley could tell that his angel was putting on a brave face. He would have been wholly convinced if he didn’t know the angel in question so very well. He wished more than anything he could give Aziraphale a reassuring look, a smile, _anything_. He was both thankful and furious that he had his glasses on. He needed to keep the other demons from seeing any sign of fondness he might direct toward his angel. However, that obviously meant the angel in question could get no comfort of any kind from Crowley. He knew it was in both of their best interests to keep playing his part of suave, disinterested demon. He didn’t know the situation yet, and whatever it was he hoped he could talk his way out of it. He loathed the way they were taking their lovemaking and demeaning it as something filthy and tawdry. And the way they were _speaking_ about his angel…

Yep, his best bet was to talk his way out of this one. Then he would rip each of their throats out in due time.

Crowley crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “What’s all this about, then?”

Hastur grinned evilly as he released his hold on Aziraphale and took a step forward.

“We heard you fucked an angel! No demon has ever managed to successfully do so and, yet, you did. You _must_ tell us how you managed it.”

Crowley shrugged. “It’s not that exciting of a story, actually.”

Hastur nodded knowingly. “Snuck up behind him, eh? Bent him over and raped him?” 

Crowley stiffened. “Of course not!” he shouted, perhaps a bit too defensively.

Hastur raised a questioning eyebrow as the other demons murmured amongst themselves.

Shit, shit, _shit_. Crowley inwardly cursed himself for messing up already. He really was no good at actually being a demon. Rape doesn’t insult them, idiot. He needed to fix this.

“I just erm- I mean, where’s the fun in that? I wanted him to _have_ to have it. I wanted him to be the one begging me for it,” he finished with a wicked grin.

The other demons all chuckled and nodded with enthusiasm.

“Well then,” Hastur continued, “I must _insist_ you tell us how you did it.”

“It wasn't all that hard,” Crowley began nonchalantly. “I played the long game. Aziraphale here and I kept ‘bumping’ into each other over the years. I made him think it was coincidence, but I was really just slowly wearing him down over time. Some flirtations here, a few ‘nice’ deeds there, all to make him think I was a demon who might be worth redemption. It wasn’t long before he started thinking I was truly interested in him.”

The other demons were laughing hard at this, and Crowley held in another scowl. Apparently, playing with someone’s feelings and manipulating them was just the _funniest_ fucking thing.

Aziraphale’s head was lowered and his shoulders were slumped in defeat.

Crowley swallowed. ‘Please let him be playing along. _Please_ ,’ he thought desperately to himself.

“He turned down my advances, of course,” he continued. “Turned me down dozens of times over the years. But I knew it was just to save face with his heavenly head office. It was obvious he wanted me. I could smell it on him. His arousal, his _lust_. It was only a matter of time.”

Hastur and the other demon’s were practically rolling on the floor with laughter now. It echoed through the room and filled Crowley with loathing.

“Pathetic!” Hastur called out in between laughs.

“Right, yeah,” Crowley replied through clenched teeth. He then looked to his angel, who was still slumped and keeping his gaze focused downward. Hell, what he wouldn’t give to be able to scoop him off the floor and gather him into his arms…

“Well then,’ Hastur interrupted his thoughts as he wiped a tear of laughter off his face. “It pains me to give you any sort of compliment, what with the stunt you pulled here last month with the holy water, but the higher ups insisted that we give you the proper accolades.”

Hastur and the other demons began applauding and cheering. Crowley stood awkwardly, hands stuffed in his pockets as he waited for the clapping to die down.

“Great then, thanks,” he began. “Fine job done by me. My angel and I will be off now.”

He began to walk toward Aziraphale, his angel’s head finally snapping up and looking at him with surprise.

“Oh no, no. You’re not leaving yet.” Hastur stepped between the angel and his demon, a dangerous look on his face. “We haven’t had the ceremony yet.”

“Er… right. What ceremony, exactly?”

Hastur smiled, but there was nothing remotely kind about it. “You fucked an angel. That brought him down here to _us_. Now we all get to have a turn with him.”

Crowley felt his heart stop. His head started swimming and his ears began ringing.

“I’ve uh… I’ve never heard of such a ceremony.” He hoped his voice didn’t sound as weak to them as it did to him.

“Oh, that’s right,” Hastur laughed. “That’s because no demon has ever fucked an angel, as I said, so the council and I had a meeting about what we get to do to said angel just this morning.”

Aziraphale looked to Crowley with a thinly veiled expression of horror. Crowley hoped with everything he had that the angel knew he was looking back at him through his glasses. He wanted the angel to feel the love he had for him, since he knew he couldn’t exactly see it right now.

A determined look then crossed Aziraphale’s face. “Really, I must interject,” the angel began,”do you have any _idea_ who-”

Hastur roughly smacked the angel across the face, cutting him off abruptly. He was momentarily stunned, and when he raised his head he could feel blood dripping down from his left eyebrow.

Crowley’s eyes narrowed murderously as he stepped forward, grabbing Hastur by the arm and yanking him away from Aziraphale. “Do not touch him again,” he hissed with venom. “This angel is mine. _Mine_. Do you understand? And I don’t care what bullshit last minute decision you morons came to this morning about him. I _claimed_ him and none of you lot get to touch him.”

Hastur, for his part, did not appear impressed. His black eyes slowly lowered down to where Crowley was gripping his arm. He made a ‘tsking’ sound as he shook his head. “Oh Crowley, I never did like you. Then you went and murdered Ligur and _then_ you helped stop the war. So tell me, why would I give two shits about what you claim is yours?” The Duke of Hell then leaned in closer, whispering hatefully. “We’re going to use him, each of us in this room one by one. Maybe even more than once, until either we’ve had our fill, or he breaks from the pain. Whichever one comes first.”

Aziraphale blanched at this. He could sense Crowley lightly nudging him with love earlier, and now all he could discern from his demon’s aura was fear and desperation. He put all of his focus and concentration into attempting to miracle away his shackles again, but it was not working. He, too, was feeling most distressed now, and though he thought he felt the slightest give in the restraints, the powers of hell seemed to be too much for him.

Crowley snarled, his grip growing even tighter on Hastur’s arm. He dug his nails in, hoping to help get his point across in a language even demons understood; pain. “What are you thinking?” he growled. “This angel is a _Principality_. If heaven finds out what you’re doing to him, that you dragged him down here to defile him, they will come down here with their full force and wipe all of you out.”

Hastur laughed in response and Crowley felt his confidence waning. He had really hoped that new angle would strike some modicum of fear into the Duke of Hell. Or at least have him reconsidering.

“You think heaven will want anything to do with this angel?” He replied with disbelief. “This ‘Principality’ has lowered himself to commit the act of sodomy and with a _demon_ , no less. It’s almost guaranteed that by the time we’re through with him, heaven will thank us for it. After that, they’ll exact their own punishment and see to it that he falls for his sins.”

Aziraphale looked helplessly to Crowley, and the demon was losing his battle with keeping his true emotions hidden.

Crowley didn't know what to say to that. He felt stunned. That couldn't be true. He wouldn't let that happen to his angel.

His thoughts were soon interrupted.

“Let go of my arm, or I’ll have you chained up as well,” Hastur seethed.

Crowley released his grip, his hate for the other clear by his facial expression.

“There’s a good boy,” Hastur patted the demon on the face patronizingly. “Right, then! Get the angelic scum off the floor and over to the table. Bend him over it and chain his hands up. We want him in prime position for _receiving_.”

Crowley’s throat went dry as he mumbled a horrified “ _No_ ” to himself. No no no this couldn’t be happening. The demon knew he couldn’t perform miracles of his own in hell, it was a sort of contingency plan that had been put in place a long time ago. Hell wouldn’t be a very efficient place if any old demon could go around hurting other demons with a snap of their fingers. In fact, it hadn’t been. Lots of servants of the devil limping around on one bloody stump because another demon had lost an argument and their temper. Hence, the regulation had been put into place. Only the higher ups were allowed the privilege of demonic power down here. Despite that knowledge, Crowley tried with all of his might to free Aziraphale from his chains. He snapped his fingers behind his back over and over to no avail. He then, out of desperation, attempted to stop time altogether. He did it once, though it was on earth, but Satan help him, he had to try.

Nothing was working, of course, and Crowley was _terrified_.

Several demons had dragged a resisting Aziraphale over to the table. They were then bending him over the top, pushing his torso flush with the surface and chaining his shackled hands above his head to the table.

“Get your hands _off_ of me!” Aziraphale commanded, struggling with all his strength.

Some of the demons laughed at the angels' resistance, those that weren’t were looking at him hungrily.

“Such a tasty looking thing,” one of the demons commented. He then ran a hand down the angel’s back and positioned himself between his legs.

“No! Get away from him!” Crowley yelled out as he lunged forward, intent on tackling that filth to the ground. Two other demons grabbed him, however, holding him back as he struggled to get to his angel. “Get off of me!” He wrenched his body to try and escape the ironclad grips. “Don’t you touch him!” he roared, as the demon near his angel began to pull down Aziraphale’s pants.

Aziraphale was shaking now. But was it from fear or from anger? Crowley had to imagine that it was a combination of both, as his body was betraying him and doing the same.

“Stop it! You can’t do this!” Crowley continued to struggle. He then looked over to where Hastur was observing it all. “Hastur, you’re making a mistake!” he tried again desperately.

The Duke of Hell tapped a finger to his chin in consideration before grinning wickedly.

Crowley swallowed thickly.

“You know you're right, Crowley. What was I thinking?” He walked forward and pushed the demon that was currently behind Aziraphale out of the way. The angel’s bottom was bare now, and Hastur began to stroke the back of his thighs. “Mmm… I can see why you picked this one. Delicious.”

Aziraphale was gritting his teeth, trying to squirm away from his disgusting touch despite there being no where to go.

“I think I’ll have my way with him first,” the Duke of Hell added. His hands were now on the angel’s cheeks, squeezing them and spreading them.

“ _I will kill you for this_ ,” Crowley threatened with such venom in his voice that it made the other demons gasp.

Hastur smirked. “If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think you cared about this angel.”

Crowley knew that to any other creature besides a demon, that would be bloody well obvious. Thankfully, these demons were morons and didn’t understand love or caring. “Of course I don’t _care_ ,” he spat. “I put several millennia into getting this angel. I won’t want him after your disgusting paws have been all over him. He’s _mine_.”

“So selfish of you, not wanting to share,” he replied nonchalantly before adding, “and I’m afraid I don’t care.”

Hastur began to undo his own trousers then, exposing his hardened length and positioning it against the angel’s entrance.

“No!” Aziraphale cried out, his body clenching in a last ditch effort to stop the impending intrusion.

“Damnit, NO! Stop! Stop it!” Crowley struggled and roared and realized he only had one play left. “A deal! Let’s make a trade. You like deals, right Hastur?”

Hastur backed away just slightly, his expression intrigued. “It better be one hell of a deal to make me not want this,” he replied as he gave the angel’s backside another squeeze.

“It’s me you hate,” Crowley continued, breathless at how close he had been to watching his love be raped. “Leave the angel alone, and you can have me. I’ll go along willingly, whatever you want to do to me.”

Hastur looked genuinely confused. “Why would you do that?”

Satan’s balls, these demons were dumb.

Thankfully, Crowley was not.

“Because I’ve been on earth long enough and have dealt with enough angels that I know you’re wrong. If you do this to him, against his will, a Principality of heaven, they _will_ come for you. And more important, they will come for _me_. And nothing you could possibly think to torture me with would ever compare to the wrath heaven would inflict on me if I let you do this.”

Hastur seemed to be genuinely contemplating his deal, and Crowley held his breath. This was his last card, he had no other ideas. It _had_ to work. Demons understood pain, and Crowley trading a much harsher form of pain for one he considered to be less so would make sense to them.

Hastur grinned unpleasantly and stepped back from Aziraphale. “Remove the angel from the table, but leave him chained. He's not going anywhere until we've had our fill of Crowley. I don't trust him to keep up his end of the deal without the angel sticking around as bait. Plus, this ' _Principality_ ' seems to care for him. Pathetic. It'll be fun to watch him squirm while we have our fun with Crowley."

Aziraphale’s distressed eyes met his demon's, and the angel shook his head pleadingly. “No, don’t do this!” The angel’s pants were roughly pulled back up as he was shoved back into a kneeling position.

“Chain the traitor up to that pillar, facing it. I want to be able to get some good lashes in first.”

Crowley’s hands were chained in front of him, then hooked above his head to a large stone pillar in the middle of the room.

“You mustn’t do this!” Aziraphale pleaded.

“Aww how _sweet_ ,” Hastur mocked as he practically choked on the words. He then moved himself behind Crowley, his mouth mere inches from the other demon's ear. “This is going to hurt, you can count on that. What’s more, your little bargain left me with _this_ to deal with.” Crowley flinched as Hastur pressed his still hardened length against his backside. “Do you know somewhere I could put it?” he chuckled darkly, grabbing Crowley’s hips and grinding himself against him.

Crowley just gritted his teeth, bracing himself for what would come next.

Anything to keep his angel safe.


	2. Chapter 2

Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure how he could feel both his heart absolutely bursting with loving adoration for his demon, while simultaneously experiencing such intense anger and hatred for the other creatures in that room. It was a very complicated mix of emotions, one that left him oddly both exhausted and energized at the same time. Really, he hoped his heart wasn’t on the brink of exploding with the way it was rapidly pounding in his chest.

However, his strongest emotion, the one that ruled over everything else at the moment, was fear. 

His demon was offering himself to whatever sick indulgence Hastur could concoct, in order to save him. It was enough to take his breath away, to leave him absolutely _aching_ with love for Crowley. But it also infuriated him. How dare his love sacrifice himself in this way. Didn’t he know what that would do to Aziraphale? Yes, he had been so close to being raped, he could still feel the end of Hastur’s disgusting length pressed against him. He had been sickened and so, so terrified.

But as fearful as he was in that moment, it paled weakly in comparison to what he was witnessing now.

Crowley’s shirt and jacket had been removed, and the long, lean and naked expanse of his back was on full display. His muscles were tense and his shoulder blades distinctly visible due to the uncomfortable way his arms were shackled above his head. His sunglasses had been removed too, likely to figuratively and literally strip him of any barrier he felt protected behind.

Hastur circled around him like a shark hunting his prey. Crowley twitched as the Duke of Hell traced a finger over his ribs and down the sensitive skin to his hip. 

Hastur snorted with derision. “You’re so _responsive_. Well, this is going to be fun.” He pressed himself flush against Crowley’s back, grabbing his arse with both hands. “You have always liked to wear such ridiculously _tight_ pants. It really does suit you though. Mmm… the way it hugs your hips. Do you like looking like such a slut? You must. You’re just begging to be treated like one.”

Aziraphale’s fists clenched and an angry growl of protest rose up his throat.

“What was that?” Hastur called over his shoulder with mock interest. “Do you not like me talking about him like that? Don’t like me touching him?” He emphasized his last question by reaching around and roughly grabbing Crowley’s groin.

The captive demon’s jaw clenched, his hips bucking away from the intrusive hold.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Hastur continued to Aziraphale, “I’m not going to just take him like I planned on with you. No, I’m going to get him nice and limber first.”

Another demon walked up to the Duke of Hell and handed him a long leather whip.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “No,” he breathed.

“Leather and chains for this slut,” Hastur announced. “He’ll probably enjoy it. Time to hear you scream, Crowley!”

“NO!” the angel cried out as he tried to lunge forward, tried to do _anything_ , but he was quickly held back.

The whip cracked against Crowley's back with a sickening sound. The demon’s body arched and twisted away, he bit his lip hard to avoid crying out.

“Whoo!” Hastur called out with glee. “That was a good one!”

There was a deep gash going diagonally down the captive demon’s back. Aziraphale looked on in horror as it began to bleed.

“You absolute _monster_ ,” the angel snarled. He was so angry, he had never felt a hatred like this toward anyone before. 

Hastur smirked and raised the whip again.

“No, don’t! Leave him alone! Please!” he pleaded.

“Mmm do keep begging, it turns me on,” he replied suggestively before cracking the whip down again.

“Mmph!” Crowley forcefully exhaled in agony, his toes curling as his knees buckled. He dangled by his chains for a few moments as he panted.

“Oooh got a noise out of you that time,” Hastur declared with joy. The new gash was almost perfectly parallel to the first one and it, too, was already bleeding heavily. “What other noises are you going to make for me, hmm?” he asked suggestively, tracing his fingers through the open wounds on his back.

Crowley shuddered and hissed at the gentle touch that mingled with excruciating pain every time one of his lashes was grazed over. The sadistic demon was now prodding his open wounds, pushing at them with force. Crowley wanted to whimper, gasp, _scream_ at the pain, but he wouldn’t give Hastur the satisfaction.

The Duke of Hell pouted at the silence. “Come now, you were so much more vocal when you thought the angel was going to be taken. Do I need to threaten him again?”

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Crowley growled through clenched teeth.

Hastur grabbed the other demon's hair by it’s roots, violently yanking his head back so that he could hiss in his ear. “Maybe I’ll break the deal, what would you do about that? You’re under my complete control. How would you stop me if I decided I still wanted that delicious heavenly morsel chained up over there.”

“ _No_ ,” he fumed.

“Better start cooperating then. I want to _hear_ you.”

Aziraphale was witnessing it all, horrified, and the unbridled anger he felt started to become something more. Something was happening deep within him. A white hot burning that was building in his very core, the likes of which he’d never felt before. It was as if his rage was manifesting itself physically.

Hastur pulled a knife from his pocket and began slicing into the tender, exposed skin of Crowley’s under arm. He moved slowly and kept increasing the pressure. Crowley could feel him cut through his skin, then his muscle tissue and then, finally, he was fairly certain the knife had reached bone. A pained howl escaped the demon.

“Get. Away. From. Him.” Aziraphale’s voice was low and dangerous.

Hastur looked back over his shoulder, his eyebrows raising at the command.

“What did you say?”

“You’re going to pay for that,” the angel replied quietly but viciously.

Hastur stormed toward Aziraphale and grabbed him roughly by his collar. He pulled the angel up just enough so that their faces were mere inches apart. “Understand this; you have no power here. I’m going to take him now. Rape him, like I planned on with you. Once I’ve done that, I’ll continue to whip him until I get bored with it. I’ll make a damned tic-tac-toe board out of his back if I decide to do so, and then the other demons and I will carve x’s and o’s into him. He’s _ours_ until we’ve had our fill of him.”

Aziraphale was scowling, his eyes burning with fury. He could feel the intense heat building, growing inside him. Before it was localized in his core, but he felt it spreading now, up into his lungs and his spine and out through his ribs.

Hastur had no inkling that something otherworldly was happening, though, and laughed mockingly at the angry expression on the angel’s face. "You're so _cute_ when you're angry." He gave his head a demeaning pat, and walked back over to Crowley.

“I’m warning you,” Aziraphale called after him.

“Ha! He’s warning me,” he mocked as he turned his attention back to his prisoner.

Crowley could tell something was happening. He had never heard his angel sound like that before. Not ever. Not in six thousand years. Even through his blinding pain, he could feel something building in the atmosphere around him. He tried to look over his shoulder to his angel, but Hastur grabbed him by the jaw and prevented him from doing so.

“Face forward, scum. Don’t worry, you’ll probably like this part. Try not to get off on it.”

Hastur slipped his arms around Crowley’s waist and began unbuttoning his jeans. 

Crowley sucked in a breath and tried to writhe out of the other demon’s grip. He twisted and turned and then stomped on his foot. Hastur cursed and pressed his thumb as hard and as deep as he could into the weeping laceration on Crowley’s arm. Crowley bit back a scream as his body went pliant. Hastur used this opportunity to yank his captive’s pants down to his knees and spread his legs apart with his own.

The white heat inside the angel was at its breaking point now. It was vibrating inside of him. It was in his skull, pulsing out of his mouth and his eyes.

Hastur had just managed to unzip his own pants when one of the other demons in the room gasped.

“Uh, boss?!”

“Not _now_ ,” he bit back, focusing on holding Crowley’s hips still.

A blinding white light was emanating from the angel. His features were almost completely obscured, but the demons could just make out his pupil-less eyes and the light pouring from his mouth. He shattered his shackles easily and began to stand up. The demons next to him grabbed him to force him to his knees again, but they howled in pain as their hands disintegrated where they tried to touch him.

Hastur stepped back from Crowley when he heard the others cry out, his mouth gaping at what he was seeing. 

Crowley managed to look over his shoulder, his eyes squinting at the intensity of the light. “ _Aziraphale_ ,” he whispered with awe.

Aziraphale was standing now, and the entire room gasped as his wings manifested themselves in all their angelic glory. They towered above him, radiant and strong. When the angel spoke, it was as if his voice was echoing inside their own heads. A sound that could only be described as a crack of thunder. The room crackled with static electricity, much like right before a lightning strike.

“You were warned,” his voice boomed and the demons recoiled. “I told you to get away from him. How _dare_ you touch him. I gave you every opportunity to stop and this is what you’ve brought yourselves to. There is no heaven or hell for you now, only emptiness.” 

There was a demon cowering in the corner and Aziraphale turned his head so that his burning white eyes looked in his direction. 

“You will be spared, but only so that you can tell others of what you witnessed here today.”

There was a flash, a dazzling illumination that covered the room, like a bolt of lightning in slow motion. When the light faded, all the demons in the room had vanished, save for the snivelling creature in the corner and, of course, Crowley.

Crowley’s chains had been broken, and the demon whipped around in shock. Heart pounding, his eyes darted across the room, taking in the sudden emptiness of it. He still couldn’t look directly at his angel, so intense was the light. 

Aziraphale’s gaze was still fixed on the other demon. “Leave now,” he commanded. “Tell Beelzebub and the other minions of hell that they are never to bother myself or the demon Crowley again. Lest they suffer the same fate as the others that were here today.”

The frightened creature nodded his assent and then wasted no time scurrying away, leaving the angel alone with _his_ demon.

Aziraphale’s head turned to face Crowley and the intense white illumination began fading slowly. The demon watched with wonder until it was the angel he recognized and loved once again standing in front of him. Kind, blue eyes met Crowley’s wide, golden ones and the demon exhaled deeply as he leaned against the pillar.

“Oh, _angel_ ,” he breathed. He was positively trembling with relief, reverence, adoration and about a dozen other emotions he couldn’t quite catalogue at the moment. His knees began to buckle, giving out from beneath him, and his angel immediately rushed over. 

Aziraphale gathered him up in his arms, careful to avoid the lashes on his upper back, and held him to his chest tightly. Crowley let him support his weakened body as he wrapped his arms around his angel’s shoulders, pulling him close and burying his face in his neck. The angel kissed Crowley’s temple, a tear of relief rolling down his cheek as he murmured lovingly into his demon’s hair.

“I’ve got you now, we’re going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of here.”

Aziraphale snapped his fingers and miracled the two of them back into his bookshop with ease. Apparently, he mused to himself, now that he revealed himself to be an all-powerful angelic entity, he could perform such a miracle in hell. All it took was someone threatening the love of his life. He choked back a sob at that thought, at how he had let them hurt Crowley at all. 

Crowley felt his angel’s chest hitch, and lifted his head to look him in the eyes. He cradled Aziraphale’s face in his hands and pressed their lips together. He kissed him, again and again, warm, soft lips moving against his own, tears rolling down his face now too.

“Angel, you _saved_ me,” he breathed against his love’s lips. “That was the most amazing bloody thing I’ve ever seen.” He was peppering kisses all over his face now. Along his jaw, over his cheeks, then back to his lips.

“You saved me first, my incredibly brave, incredibly _foolish_ demon.” Aziraphale aimed to admonish, but his watery smile and the obvious love emanating from every fibre of his being negated his attempt.

“Couldn’t let them hurt you, would never let them hurt you,” he murmured, pressing their lips together once again and kissing him deeply.

At the mention of being hurt, Aziraphale’s brain clicked back into action. “Oh darling, here, let me see.” He didn’t want to let go of his demon, not even for a moment, but he needed to heal him. Crowley was still shirtless, and he reluctantly let go too so that Aziraphale could turn him around and inspect the damage. He sucked in a breath at seeing the lashes up close. They were so deep and still bleeding rather heavily. Cursing Hastur for the thousandth time, he began to miracle his demon’s wounds away as gently as he could. Crowley still hissed at the feeling of his sensitive skin being stitched back together, first on his back and then on his arm, but his angel worked quickly and efficiently. When he was done, his demon’s beautiful skin looked as good as new, and Aziraphale ran his fingers over his back with a feather light touch. “Does that hurt?” he asked gently.

Crowley shook his head, and Aziraphale could see his demon was visibly trembling. He wasn’t the only one, the angel noted, as he looked down at his own shaking hands.

The demon turned around and his expressive, golden eyes met the angel’s once again.

“Damnit, angel, that was _so close_ ,” he said shakily, running a hand through his hair. “I was so terrified they were going to hurt you and that I wouldn’t be able to stop it. I’ve never been that scared in my life. Not even when I thought the whole bloody world was going to end.” 

Aziraphale quickly closed the distance between them and pulled his demon back into a warm embrace. He wrapped his arms fully around Crowley’s back, holding him as closely as possible and trying to stop both of their trembling. “Me too, dearest,” he replied breathlessly. “I hope you’re quite content with living out the rest of eternity like this because I don’t think I can bear to let you go.”

Crowley smiled into Aziraphale’s hair. “I _am_ rather tempted to turn into a snake just so that I can coil myself around you.”

Aziraphale chuckled against him. “Far be it for me to talk you out of a temptation.”

The demon hummed. “But then I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

Crowley’s mouth moved to his angel’s, their lips joining softly once again. He carded his hands through Aziraphale’s hair as their tongues delicately met, the angel melting and whimpering against him. Crowley lightly nipped his lower lip with his teeth, then kissed him again tenderly.

“You _astonish_ me, angel,” he breathed against Aziraphale’s lips.

Aziraphale already felt lightheaded. Goodness, but his demon had _quite_ the effect on him.

Crowley started placing kisses on his angel’s cheeks. His hands moved to cup his face and he pulled back just slightly so that he could look into Aziraphale’s eyes.

“How _did_ you do that? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Aziraphale bit his lip. “I’m afraid I don’t actually know. I’ve certainly never experienced it before. It just- just, came _out_ of me when I saw them hurting you.”

A look of pain crossed the angel’s face at that memory, and Crowley stroked his thumbs over his jaw in an attempt to comfort.

“When you saw them hurting _me_ ,” he repeated with disbelief. “Angel, they were going to _rape_ you, do whatever sick thing they wanted to you! You're saying it wasn’t until I was threatened that you decided ‘Oh! Maybe now is a good time to go full power badass angel on them’?! Powers that you, apparently, didn’t even fucking know that you had.” 

Aziraphale gazed levelly at his demon, his eyes filled with the love and adoration he felt for him.

Crowley stared back, stunned at the implications of what he just vocalized.

“It’s as I said,” the angel continued seriously, placing his hand over Crowley’s heart. “Those monsters were hurting the love of my life, the one being I would do anything for, and I was terrified and helpless to stop it. Until I wasn’t.”

“Ngk.” Crowley’s expression softened.

“I felt so _angry_ ,” he continued, focusing on his hand on Crowley’s chest. “An all encompassing burning rage at what he was doing to you. I don’t think angels are supposed to ever feel that much fury, but I did. And suddenly, I knew I had the power to stop him.”

The angel looked up and met his demon’s wide, pupil-blown eyes.

Crowley let out a breath. “Fucking heaven I love you so goddamn much, angel.”

Aziraphale smiled at the absolute truth in the statement, as well as his love’s rather _poetic_ way with words. He brought his hands up, cradling Crowley’s face as he leaned their foreheads together.

“I've known that for a long time, dearest. And if, against all logic, somehow I hadn’t, I’d be absolutely daft if I didn’t see it today. _You’re_ the one who was willing to give yourself up for me. To whatever tortures those monsters could come up with. I’ve never felt such intense love and crippling fear at the same time.” Aziraphale kissed his demon’s lips before taking a shuddering breath. He traced his hands down Crowley’s bare arms and interlaced his demon’s fingers with his own. “Come with me, love,” he requested as he led them to the couch. “I just want to be close to you.”

Crowley’s whole body ached with affection for his angel. They were both still so shaken, so raw from what they’d been through. The demon just wanted to see his angel smile, so he decided to make a smart remark to attempt to lighten the mood. 

“What? Me being half naked and wrapped in your arms isn’t close enough for you?” he smirked, allowing himself to be led across the room.

The angel laid down on the couch, pulling his demon down on top of him, blanketing himself.

“Oh, hush,” Aziraphale chided halfheartedly with a teary-eyed smile.

Crowley propped himself up on his arms, hovering over his angel and gazing at him with love and concern.

“Oh, angel, I’m right here. Are you okay?”

Aziraphale nodded quickly before kissing his demon fiercely. He held Crowley protectively to himself, letting him rest his head on his chest and then nuzzled into his red hair. “I need to feel your weight, your warmth,” he murmured gently. “Feel you alive and safe in my arms.” 

His hands were alternating between squeezing Crowley closer, then loosening a bit and rubbing his back in light, comforting circles.

Crowley was practically purring, shivering at the sensations. “Mmm… ‘ziraphale,” he all but moaned. He shifted his body up just enough so that he could nuzzle into his angel’s neck, one of his newfound favorite places to be. “I’m right here, I’ll always be right here,” he murmured against his love.

Aziraphale squeezed him tighter. He inhaled deeply so that he could just breathe his demon _in_.

“And I’m sorry you had to see that,” Crowley added quietly against his angel’s clavicle. “Them hurting me. But I know I can take it. It was worth the pain for me to know they’d let you go.”

Aziraphale's eyes widened at his demon’s choice of phrasing.

“That... wasn’t the first time they hurt you like that, was it, love?” he questioned gently, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.

Crowley stilled, not quite knowing how to answer. 

But he didn’t need to answer, not when the Crowley of the past had already given it away.

_//Well, I suppose I should say thank you for, the uh… rescue._

Don’t say that _. If my people hear I rescued an angel I’ll be the one in trouble and_ my lot _do not send rude notes.//_

Aziraphale gasped at the realization. He pulled his demon into his embrace more forcefully, trying to speak around the sudden lump in his throat. “Oh, _Crowley_. Why didn't you ever say anything?”

Crowley shrugged, his face still pressed in his angel's neck. “Only happened a couple times over the last few millennia. It could have been much worse. _Much_ worse. I’ve seen it, angel.”

Aziraphale hated the fact that Crowley was making light of what were certainly horrific experiences. “A couple times is too many, my love.” He carded a hand through the hair at the nape of Crowley’s neck.

Crowley whimpered and tightened his hold on his angel. “It’s not pretty. And I’ve never had to watch it happen to someone I love. My hope was that they were going to free you on the spot and then you wouldn’t have had to witness all… that.”

Aziraphale stiffened, his eyes narrowing in hurt. “Oh, that was your plan, was it?” he began with a clipped tone. “I’d just wait up on earth while I knew you were being tortured? Maybe make some hot cocoa and have a kip. Have I got that right?”

Crowley winced at the edge in his love’s voice, and at his own stupidity. “No, that’s not what I-”

“Just- what? Just twiddling my thumbs and checking my watch until you came back? Bloody and- and broken?!”

“ _Aziraphale_ , I-”

“Because if you think for one _second_ that I wouldn’t have brought down heaven _and_ hell to find my way back to you-”

“Angel!” Crowley framed Aziraphale’s head between his hands and made his love see the look of reproach on his face. “You're right. Horrible plan. I’m sorry.” He gently kissed his angel’s furrowed brow and watched as his pained expression lessoned a bit. “I wasn’t thinking clearly in the moment. I was just desperate to save you,” he finished quietly.

Aziraphale exhaled deeply. He could feel all of his anger and tension slowly dissolving as he gazed into those loving, serpentine eyes. “Of course, I understand, truly. I’m sorry, too, darling.” One of his hands cupped Crowley's cheek and the demon closed his eyes and leaned into the warmth. “I just _despise_ the thought of you having been harmed like that. It kills me that I didn’t know and that I wasn’t there for you.”

Crowley leaned in and placed a quick kiss on the corner of his angel’s mouth. “Things were different then. Well... at least, we couldn’t be sure what would happen if above and below found out we were friends.” Crowley was still so close that his breath skimmed over Aziraphale’s lips. “But you’re here for me now, angel. That much is _abundantly_ obvious.” 

Aziraphale closed the small gap between them and kissed his demon deeply. 

Crowley hummed at the intensity of it, the two of them lingering and taking their time before slightly separating. It took a moment for his vision to clear so he could look at his angel again.

“Besides,” he added breathlessly with a smirk, “you’ve taken care of my most hated tormentor in a rather permanent way today.”

Aziraphale looked contemplative. “I suppose I did, didn’t I?”

Crowley settled himself into a lying position again. He rested his cheek on his angel’s chest as he slid his hands around his shoulders. “What happened to them? Do you know? Some sort of… purgatory?”

“Yes, I do believe that’s exactly right.”

“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer bunch of guys,” Crowley growled.

“Quite right, my dear,” Aziraphale murmured into his demon's hair. He very un-angelically wished he had caused those demons more pain before they disintegrated.

The two grew quiet for a moment, relishing the peace they felt and the warmth of each other's comfort. 

Aziraphale was finding himself hypnotized by the sensation of Crowley’s heart beating against him. He laid his head back and closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of his demon in all the ways he was being surrounded by him.

“What he said wasn’t true, was it?” Crowley asked quietly.

Aziraphale looked down as the demon raised his head to meet his eyes. He’d never heard Crowley sound so timid.

“That you’d fall for being with me.”

The angel felt his heart breaking at the worried, and slightly guilty, look in his love’s eyes. As if he was such a vile thing, so tainted, that he could be the cause of an angel’s falling. Crowley was about to look down, look away, but Aziraphale placed a finger under his jaw to keep his demon’s eyes fixed on his.

“ _No_ , I don’t believe it’s true.”

A look of hope crossed Crowley’s face at the conviction with which Aziraphale spoke, but the look was fleeting. His brow narrowed in confusion as he waited for his angel to elaborate.

Aziraphale smiled, using both hands to cup his love’s face. “Those particular demons have no comprehension of love. They only understand lust and want. They think that I gave into that base desire, was tempted by one of their fellow demons, just so that I could engage in carnal pleasures. They have no comprehension of just how _much_ I love you, how so very dear you are to me. How I can’t imagine one single day ahead of me without you by my side. What’s more, I think... I think that heaven understands this and agrees with me. They've always very much been on the side of love, afterall. So, I believe that _they_ provided me with that power to save you, to protect you and our love.”

Aziraphale had to stop to take a breath, his eyes tearing up as Crowley looked at him with wonder. 

“And if by some _small_ chance that I’m wrong, that She wants me to fall for something so pure as loving another, then perhaps I don’t want to be in Her service anymore.”

Crowley stared wide-eyed at his angel, whose words were spoken so unequivocally, there was not a doubt in his mind that they weren’t genuine. 

“Aziraphale,” he breathed, “don’t _say_ that. You don't know what-what it’s like to _fall_.”

The angel took in his demon’s worried and slightly angry expression, the determination in his eyes.

“You’re right, of course. I certainly don’t know how that feels. But I do know this; I would rather fall than be forced to live without you. You can’t convince me otherwise, my love.”

“ _Angel_ ,” his breathing hitched.

“I love you infinitely, Crowley. More than I could ever put into words.”

Crowley wanted so very much to be able to argue, to tell him how mad he sounded. Aziraphale did not know how painful, how devastating and how _heartbreakingly_ excruciating falling actually was. Crowley _did_ know. He remembered it so clearly, as if it was last week and not, in fact, over six thousand years ago. He wanted to say all of that but Aziraphale was kissing him now. His angel's warm, soft lips and contented little sighs were very close to succeeding at removing all coherent thought from Crowley’s brain. 

So, so close.

“I know you’re thinking about arguing with me,” Aziraphale murmured between kisses.

“Yep.”

“ _Stop_ ,” the angel kissed Crowley’s jaw.

“You won’t fall. It _won't_ happen,” he hissed against Aziraphale’s cheek.

“I quite agree, I don’t believe it will happen either.” Aziraphale wrapped a hand around the back of Crowley’s neck possessively, giving him a warm smile. “So it seems we have nothing to argue about.”

“Hmm… thought _I_ was supposed to be the wily one,” he replied, impressed.

“You _are_ the wily one, love. I’m just the innocent angel, being seduced by a sexy demon.”

Aziraphale nipped at Crowley’s lower lip and the demon whimpered in response.

“Don’t think we’re done talking about this just because I can’t resist your charms.”

“Never, darling,” Aziraphale breathed. “For now I just want to make out with you and pretend like today didn’t happen for a while.”

“That can be arranged,” Crowley rumbled as he carded a hand through Aziraphale’s blonde hair. “Satan help me but I’m crazy about you.”

Aziraphale shivered. “I think we can agree with some confidence that we’re both rather fond of each other.” His mouth quirked with the knowledge of that being the understatement of the century.

A devilish grin slowly spread on Crowley's face. He lifted his eyes and leveled Aziraphale with such an intense look that it made the angel flush and feel weak in the knees. Thankfully, he was already lying down.

“Oh, so it’s _fond_ now isss it?” 

Aziraphale visibly swallowed. “That’s not fair.”

Crowley slid his legs up so that he was in a kneeling position, straddling his angel’s hips. He gave him an innocent look as he leaned in and whispered in the shell of his ear.

“What’sss not fair?”

The angel inhaled sharply. “You- you doing that with your voice! It drives me absolutely mad with desire. It was no small miracle that kept me from ravishing you all those millennia.”

The demon smirked knowingly. “Likewise, angel.” He started to pull at Aziraphale’s bow tie, removing it from around his neck. “Speaking of what’s fair and what’s not, why is it that you’re always the one still fully clothed?”

Aziraphale smiled and sat up suddenly so that his demon was now seated in his lap.

Crowley chuckled in surprise before wrapping his legs around his angel’s hips. He wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s back as he hooked his chin over his shoulder.

The angel sighed deeply at the feeling of being so completely enveloped up by his demon.

“Next best thing to coiling,” Crowley whispered in his ear.

Aziraphale laughed softly before burying his face in the soft spot where Crowley’s neck met his shoulder.

Crowley knew deep down that his angel had always cared for him, even during those few times over their many shared years when Aziraphale’s words negated what was so obvious to both of them. The last couple days, however, had proven to him without a shadow of a doubt just how deep that affection went. Crowley begrudgingly found he couldn’t fault his angel for saying he’d rather fall than be without him. Yes, he knew what it was to fall and Aziraphale did not, but it would be terribly hypocritical of him to tell his love to take those words back, to not even _think_ them. As it was, Crowley would fall again and again if it meant he could be with his angel. Aziraphale, to his own credit, summoned the powers of heaven today because Crowley was being hurt. The demon shivered with both trepidation and, if he was being honest, some giddy anticipation to think what would happen if his actual life were in danger. What sort of sheer ethereal strength Aziraphale could conjure to bring down on their enemies in that situation. 

Crowley felt himself becoming more aroused by the second just thinking about it. He began to nibble and lap at his angel’s neck, Aziraphale gasping and moaning at the sensations.

“Did I mention how bloody _sexy_ that display of yours was today?” he growled between bites.

“Oh?” Aziraphale managed to croak out.

“Just thinking about it is turning me on.” He kissed along his angel's jaw before mouthing against him, “my _hero_.”

It was Aziraphale’s turn to get lost in sensations. His mind was quickly becoming fuzzy with desire, save the one thought that he knew would always be there when it came to his demon. A steady mantra of “I love you, I love you, _I love you_.”

Crowley knew it to be true. He also knew that if the unthinkable ever did happen, if his angel ever were to fall, that Crowley would be right there to catch him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make no apologies for the amount of cuddling and fluff in this chapter. Let’s just say that there’s a slight possibility that because I live alone and haven't had a hug in 7 months due to this fucking pandemic I might be A LITTLE LACKING in the physical affection part of my life. So, I supplemented with these two ;-)


End file.
